


Cargo

by Supertights



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Anger Management, Bad Parenting, Gen, Not Beta Read, POV Third Person, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3777472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supertights/pseuds/Supertights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason Yondu is the boss of the Ravagers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cargo

The first time Peter heard the words “Cap’n gonna teach stuff!” was forty-eight hours after he’d been collected as cargo for an unknown destination. A member of the crew had disappeared one of Yondu’s tchotchkes, a favourite, and the leader of the Ravagers was out for blood in that over the top kind of way Yondu got about small things.

“Cap’n gonna teach stuff,” bellowed Kraglin. The crew hurried to the source of his voice, to delay was to invite closer examination by an already enraged Yondu.

The idiot who’d supposedly snatched the bobble headed toy was being held against a wall by two of the Ravagers. There was no talk of proof or witnesses, nor was mercy mentioned. The yellow hued thief was small and wiry, the feathers on his head were tight to the scalp in fear, and he was sweating profusely, begging that it hadn't been him. Peter huddled in a corner at the back, watching through the mass of legs, saw the arrow fly from it’s quiver at a sharp whistle from the captain.

The arrow point broke the prisoner's skin and a bead of blood ran the length of the long yellow neck, it was green so dark as to appear black. “It wasn't me,” he squealed. “Not me.”

Yondu played to the crowd. “We’re Ravagers, we got a code. We--”

“Steal from everybody,” whispered Peter, repeating the words he’d overheard Yondu utter drunkenly the night before.

The Ravagers replied as one, all seeking to avoid meeting Yondu's gaze. "Don't steal from each other," they shouted tunelessly.

“-- don’t steal from each other,” growled Yondu, the arrow moving minutely as air whistled between his teeth, leaving shallow slashes on the prisoner's flesh. A final sharp note and the arrow speared the hapless thief's neck, removing itself in a fountain of blood before returning to Yondu’s quiver.  “Lesson’s over,” he muttered, pushing people out of the way as he left. “Someone get rid of that.”

“Lesson’s over!” shouted Kraglin, following the captain.

The group dispersed, leaving the dead man on the deck, he'd bleed out quickly. Peter waited until he was alone before approaching the body. Opening a secret compartment in the man’s artificial arm, he withdrew the toy and studied it. It was nothing to speak of, old and worn in places, a child’s thing, the head hung slightly askew.

A hand came down on his shoulder, squeezing. “I should’a known you’d have worked out where he hid it,” said Yondu. “None of those other useless carcuses roamin’ this ship found it but you, you watch everything. You got good eyes, kid, maybe we eat them last.”

Peter offered the toy to the captain. “Why’s it important?” he asked. “Looks so old.”

“It is old, Quill. I had it on me when I became a Ravager all them years ago. Had to fight--” he grinned at Peter, his smile as jagged as his personality. “Tooth and nail to keep it all these years. It’s dumb sentimental shit that should’ve got me killed twenty times over. Can’t explain it.”

Peter nodded slowly. His belongings had disappeared with Yondu after he’d come aboard. “I need my bag,” he said slowly, watching Yondu's face for cues that he was going too far. “It’s got some of that sentimental shit in it.” He swallowed back some tears, wiping his nose on his sleeve roughly.

“Earn it,” replied Yondu, harshly. He nodded to Kraglin as his second appeared and told him he was needed on the bridge.

“Take a leg,” ordered Kraglin, dragging the dead man by the foot towards the airlock.

Reluctantly, Peter grabbed hold of the other leg and they disposed of the body together, watching it get sucked out into space.

“You can take an order, there’s hope for you yet,” said Kraglin, ruffling Peter’s hair. He shoved something into the boy’s hand. “Wasn't me who gave it if anyone asks why you have this,” he said casually, his good-natured smile kinder than many on this ship. Anybody could literally mean anybody but Peter knew Kraglin meant Yondu.

He opened his hand to reveal the troll doll from his bag. It stared back with dead eyes. The doll wasn't what he really wanted but it was a start.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping there aren't any glaring mistakes, feel free to mention it if there are.


End file.
